


Tale as Old as Time

by bigsweatersandcuddleweather



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast, Beauty and the Beast AU, Dark Harry, Future Fic, M/M, Past Tense, Time Travel, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-23 17:39:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1574072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigsweatersandcuddleweather/pseuds/bigsweatersandcuddleweather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A curse that bound him to a time and place unknown, forced a fate as he had once ridiculed and shunned, he was a beast, both inside and out, fighting against the fates design and luring innocent girls to his castle, only to shun them away with broken hearts, even as his time ran close sealing his doomed fate.</p>
<p>A boy who fought for his loved ones through the shame of society and depression that plagued the grieving family, even as the breath was halting in his chest and he knew that his time was limited, making the ultimate sacrifice to save the sister who met death and came back to tell the tale.</p>
<p>Beauty and the Beast A.U with a few twists ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A work in progress so excuse me and my extremely sluggish updates. I just want every chapter to be absolutely down to a T before I post, a bit anal so I'm sorry. 
> 
> Feedback is always lovely and appreciated :)

They had never lived a life as bad as the one they trudged toward, down a worn beaten path in the grass, heads hung low in the winding breezes that accompanied the overbearing sun. Zayn glanced around from his perch on the horse, Saffaa slumped in the embrace of his grip as he used one hand to hold her tight against him, the other holding tight to the reigns of the bit. He could see Doniya and Waliyha in the wagon with Doniya’s new husband, and his dad up ahead with the travelers they were accompanying, riding tall and weary all at the same time. His father seemed like a ghost of his former self, ruined in trade by his old partner and shunned from the high tide society they had lived in. The death of his beloved wife and mother to his kids still bringing forth in every aspect of his life and every shift of his eyes. They had lost everything, except for the few meager possessions they took with them to their new life. Somewhere new, where nobody knew their name or Zayn’s fathers dignified loss, a shunned man but one with dignity still.

“Zayn?”  his eyes trailed to Waliyha, her pale withdrawn face peeking from the shade of the overbearing sun, his stomach turning at the way she looked so sickly, the stress of the trip taking more out of her than the rest of them, leaving behind everything that she had ever known, every one she had ever known in exchange for the unknown. She had been bedridden for days leading up to the trip, and they still worried that her health would turn again.

“Yes love?” keeping his voice soothing, but loud enough for her to hear.

“Can I get out and ride with you?” even her voice was further diminished, half as radiant as she used to be. Zayn bit down on his lip, not wanting to wake the girl in his arms but Waliyha was looking at him so pitifully that he didn’t want to tell her no.

“Ask Doni to stop for a minute and get Danny to come here and get Saf out of my arms, alright darling?” watching her nod and crawl back toward the front, where the wagon stopped a minute after and the slim built figure that was his best friend come strolling over.

“Y’alright mate?” holding out his arms so that he could cradle his youngest sister in law as Zayn handed her over.

“Yeah. Waliyha wanted out for a little while.” rubbing a hand over his weary face as he clambered off his four legged beast, patting Amina on the side as a thank you for getting him through the journey thus far, before walking over to where Waliyha was clambering out the wagon and walking over to him, a cloak around her shoulders to keep away the chills that constantly clung to her and hood pulled over her face.

“Y’alright Wali?” he asked, bending down to press the back of his hand against her face.

“Fine Zayn. I’m alright. Just ready to get to wherever it is that we’re going.” shoving him aside playfully, letting him hoist her bodily into the saddle.

“We’ve probably got another hundred kilometers to go and probably going to camp out one last night. I know this hasn’t been easy Waliyha, but a new start is good for you. For all of us. It will get your abba away from those gossip mongers in that town.” Danny said once he had put Saffa down gently into the little cot they had arranged in there, playfully grabbing Zayn around the waist and hefting him up into the saddle behind Waliyha, where he glared down at his laughing friend.

“You look proper wrecked Zee. If you want I can take over with Wali and you can rest with Saffa in the back.”

“No, I want to ride with Zee.” Waliyha muttered, flipping Danny off.

“Waliyha, that’s not proper lady like. What would mum say if she saw that?” he tsked, making sure she was snug in the bracket of his arms as he wrapped the reigns around his fists.

“She would chide me and box my ears. That’s why I do it around you. You won't do that like Doniya would.” she murmured, leaning forward with that smile on her lips that made him pleased, pleased that he could put it there. They had all been afraid for her, thinking that the same illness that their mother had succumbed to somehow entered her system and she was rendered helpless to it but she had persevered, thriving on the medicines that Zayn had practically fought for, doing things that made his skin crawl and cringe, promising himself that he would never speak nor think of it again.

“Well you better make sure she doesn’t see you doing it again little sister.” he murmured, resting his chin atop her head, feeling her hands drape over his own.

“Zayn?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are we going? Where is this new house?”

“Well...we’re going to a small town, it’s near a magnificent forest, our new house is right on the edge of the forest. Miles and miles of privacy, where you can prance around with Saffaa and play to your hearts content. So much exploring and you can have a pet, more than one if you’d like. No stuffy rules about needing an escort when you would like to go out, unless abba says so.”

“WIll all of us stay in the same house?” she asked, keeping her head resting against her brothers shoulder.

“Ofcourse. Doniya and Danny are going to build an addition to the house so that they can live there, but a little separate. Abba is going to get the room on the second floor right across from you and Saffa in case you ever need him. You two will get the biggest room, with the nicest view. And I will be up in the attic, stomping around so that you can never get any proper sleep. And so none of you buggers can attack me when I’m resting because I can drag my ladder up.” reaching with his free hand to attack her stomach, fingers digging into her flesh as she squealed and gripped his hand, trying to push away his attack.

“Zayn, stop! No!” she scratched at his hand, nearly upsetting the horse. He settled down, keeping one arm tight around his waist and snuggling her close as she caught her breath. He caught his father’s eye as the older man glanced back, eyebrows raised in question. He nodded in return, letting him know that all was well.

“Alright. Alright babe. Calm down.” reaching for his pack and handing her the pouch of water, letting her guzzle it down greedily before she lay back, taking the book that he had stashed in there, opening it to where he had last left off and speaking the words out loud, only audible to his own ears, her words falling in step with their journey as they continued on in that manner for a few hours.

<><><><><><><><>

“Zayn.”  the lad turned from where he had been in the wagon, sorting through the piles of clothes for Saffa’s extra socks and nightgown. It got cold around these woods in the night and he didn’t want her to feel the chill.

“Yes Abba?” he called, finding the items he needed and hopping out the wagon, coming face to face with towering figure that watched him, faint hints of amusement in his glance.

“How are your sisters? Is there anything that they need?” he asked, stepping to the side so that he could walk beside his son. Zayn tried to suppress the small bouts of discomfort that ranged from the proximity. He hadn’t let anyone this close to him, except Safaa or Waliyha, and even though this was his father he had never been that close to him, and it brought a fidgeting stiffness to his fingers.

“They are well. Waliyha’s health is improving and she’s not sleeping all day long. Saffa is still as lively as she was so there’s no worry about her. And Danny is taking care of Doniya, waiting on her hand and foot so I have no fears with her safety.” feeling like a soldier reporting to a higher ranking officer.

“That’s good. I know this journey hasn’t been easy on them. On any of you. But I hope this town and this new home will help us recover and start a new.” he said, giving Zayn the same spiel that I had accepted from the very first day. Zayn would follow his family anywhere, as long as it guaranteed them safe and comfortable.

“I know abba.” he murmured, as they got back to the fire, watching as his father went and took a seat by Danny with the rest of the travelers who were trading stories and made room for them, Doniya with the girls off to one side trying to plait their hair. But they weren’t making it easy for her, twisting and squirming out of their reach.

“Honestly Doniya, you’d think that you would’ve learned how to do this already.” Zayn chided, nudging her to the side so that he could drag Saffa between the brackets of his knees, dampening the comb to pull through her knots, the days of travel making a mess of her hair. She whined and fought but he put an end to it with a rapping of his knuckles on her skull to still her. He did a tight smooth braid down her back, finishing it off with a ribbon. Waliyha was a bit more placid, already exhausted from the days travels and the medicines that she took nightly containing dashes of soothing opium. He was gentle, combing through her hair with more ease and rubbing her shoulders once he was done, until she was near limp in his arms, bending low to pick her up and tuck her into the cot right beside Saffa, covering both of them with the blankets to keep away bugs. He felt a sense of relief as he watched them, the ease that they fell asleep, and the peaceful calm on their features, free from he stresses that were too hard for girls their ages.

All of them were harboring weights and stresses that seemed too dense for their shoulder. Zayn shivered at the memory of his own, shoving them away into a corner of his mind where they would hopefully rot and he wouldn’t have to relieve them ever again.

“Oi, Zayn.” there was a hand clasping over his shoulder and he had to stop himself from reacting badly.

“Hey Danny. What can I do for you?” he asked, glancing at his mate. The lad he had known since he was still a small lad and other kids used to tease him for keeping his nose buried in his books instead of rough housing with them, Danny was the one who shrugged, taking a seat beside him, leaving the other kids speechless because Danny was the cool one, the one whose lead they followed. No one said anything against his habits after that and he in turn took to the lad as if he was his brother, because that’s how he saw him.

“More like what can I do for you. No offense but you’re kind of scaring everyone. When’s the last time you’ve had a proper rest?” he asked, attempting to play nonchalant but he was voicing the thoughts and worries that Doniya  had relayed to him.

“Every night. I’m fine Danny.” waving him off as he set about pitching out a place for his abba to sleep, in the sleeping bag he had bought before he left, big enough for the tall man and Saffaa in case she needed him. But most of the time she came to Zayn.

“Are you sure? You need to keep up your strength. The new house, it’s going to need a lot of work and it’s up to us. Your sisters, they’re in no shape to be doing any of that hard labor and your abba isn’t exactly getting that young.”

“I don’t need you telling me my duties. I know Danny. I have a family I need to take care of and that’s exactly what I plan on doing. So don’t stand there and try to righteously preach about my duties.” he hissed, glancing at the men around the fire whose conversation had died into peaceful silence.

“I wasn’t. Zayn I would never-”

“Danny? Where are you?” Doniya’s voice was what separated them, taking deep breaths and trying to school their surprised expressions into something more calm.

“You’re being called.” Zayn said simply, making sure the bedding in the sleeping bag was flat before heading back to the wagon to pitch the top so that the girls could sleep in privacy, Doniya probably going to join them in a little bit. He himself made due with an extra blanket under him and his bag as a pillow, curling up out of sight of everyone he had to pretend for. His front was slipping and he let it, allowing the pure unadulterated exhaustion seep into every crevice of his bones, a tidal wave of weariness that left his handicapped to the thoughts that always seemed on the edge of his mind, ready to attack at the first sign of weakness.

He couldn’t afford to be weak. Not now. Not when everyone needed for him to be strong and try to hold them together. _Get it together you weak sissy. Now is not the time. You have to fucking get it together. Abba is mourning, he can’t handle the stress. And what would he say if you were to have a mental breakdown right now. A son is a crutch to help him along, not an anchor to bring him further down. And the girls are always looking up to you for help and care. You can’t let them down._

Biting down hard on his fist he took a deep breath, glancing at the indents in his knuckles, one of them pooling with the slightest bit of blood, his teeth having broken skin. He took calming breaths, not willing to feel the tightness in his chest that came with the chronic panics that he had been plagued with ever since childhood. Now that the only person who had been able to comfort him was dead.

<><><><><><><><>

Abba? Is that it?” Saffa asked, sitting behind her father, grasping his waist with her hands, childish chubbyness still clinging to her fingers. She was staring at the cottage that stood on top of a hill, rickety and forlorn, completely swaddled in vines and flowers that seemed to devour it.

“No Saffaa. But that is part of the property. Our house is a little further away from there.” their father said gently, seemingly more relaxed since they split up with the caravan that they had been traveling with, parting ways and making their way through the town. People had waved jauntily, not that Zayn had noticed, pulling on his cloak and hiding in it’s depths, head bowed.  He didn’t like it when people looked at him anymore.

“There. That is our new house.” getting all of their attention as all heads snapped toward the direction he was pointing in. A little further away was a house he could only describe as derelict, the wood seeming rotten and steps that looked dangerous to even be near. Trees casting eerie shadows that brought a chill to his lips and down his spine.

“A lot of potential.” he said, pushing back his hood so that it fell over his shoulders, giving his younger sisters reassuring glances, as he brought his horse up the curve of paved drive that led to the front door. In the distance he could see a stable, although it seemed to be close to giving way to the elements it would do for the night.

“I’ll start setting up camp in those fields over there. It doesn’t seem like a proper place for the girls to be just yet.” Danny said, leading the oxen toward the fields with a click of his tongue as Zayn swung off the immensely high horse, landing on both feet with a little oomph before leading her to the stable, eyes peering for a water pump and spotting it a few feet away. Grabbing the bucket that Danny tossed him he filled the bucket at the pump several times, tipping it into the trough so that Amina and his father’s horse Basir could drink their fill. After making sure they were properly brushed and their gear unloaded off their backs then he walked toward the house, treading carefully over the rotten edges of the stairs, stifling his coughing fit as the dust clung to his lungs irritably. The house looked like it hadn’t been inhabited in years, and he could see that it would cost almost everything he had saved to get it into living order.

“What are you doing Zayn?” he was startled at the sound of his fathers voice from somewhere off to his left, snapping him out of his reverie as he wandered the house.

“Nothing abba. Making a list of everything that we’re going to need once we can get to town. And we need it as soon as possible. Wood, lots of it apparently. We have to replace the stairs immediately, the kitchen looks to be in good shape as well as most of this floor.”

“Zayn.” he ignored his fathers call as he kept mentally making a list.

“The porch, those stair railings as well, might as well add some shelves in the bedrooms for the girls. And of course the attachment. I’m not sure if the stove works but not as far as I can tell, everything needs a firm wiping, there’s watermarks so that means the roof needs patching. We need to demolish that stable and make a new one, fence an area in case we can get some animals. It will help us save on groceries until I can find some work. ” there were hands on his shoulders, forcing him to turn around, and look straight into his Abba’s troubled irises.

“Zayn. Zayn Javaad. Breath. Relax. Calm down son.” he said slowly, and only then could Zayn feel how rapidly his heart was beating, nearly out of his chest and echoing across the room embarrassingly loud. He nodded, stepping away from his father's grip so that he was in his own space, already forcing himself to stop overreacting.

“Sorry. I let myself slip. It wont happen again.” straightening his shirt and running one hand through his mussed locks. They could no longer afford the pomades and gels he had indulged in his old life, so it simply lay limp across his forehead, unless he cut it off which he was very tempted to do.

“No, Zayn it’s alright.” his dad awkwardly tried to reassure him and he simply nodded stiffly, not baring to be in the stuffy room any longer before striding back outside.

“Ready to scope out the town?” Danny asked, leaning against the side of the house, eyes watching the distance where Doniya was running after Saffaa, a broom in her arms while Waliyha was hunched over in laughter.

“It’s late, let’s rest up for tonight. I’m going to make a list of things we’ll probably need from town, ask Doniya what I can scrounge for food and what I can sell, may as well look for some kind of work.” instinctively reaching into his back pocket for the ring that he held closest to him, the only thing he really had left. And only a reminder of what his life could’ve been.

“Yeah, sounds good mate. But I was thinking, you know that cottage that was on the hill? What if we could gut it and make it into a proper little playhouse for Saffaa and Waliyha.” glancing down at the smaller lad who stuffed his hands into his pockets, clomping through the knee high fields, head bowed but ears perked to indicate that he was listening.

“Like they can stash their toys in there and it will give them something to do throughout the day.” he hinted, glancing back at the house they would be inhabiting as a hint.

“Let’s first worry about getting them space for them to sleep and live under. Once we get some things going then we’ll talk about that.” the aura of utter serious demeanor hanging over him like a heavy gel mold. Danny slowed down and watched him walk away, a gait that was so different from the jaunty free spirited lad he had been just two months ago. It seemed like he held the weight of the world and then some on his shoulders, weighing down like anchors. Taking more and more of the responsibilities in the hopes that it will make it easier on his sisters.

“Danny, how is he?” Yasir came up beside him, leaning heavily on his left leg.

“Surviving sir. Don’t know for how much longer for. I’ll keep an eye on him.” he said, glancing at the older man who was watching his son with hooded eyes, observant and pondering deeply.

“Thank you Danny. I know that you could’ve taken Doniya and have made a wonderful life for each other but you gave that up to be here for us.”

“I would have never done that. You are the most important people to Doniya, and you are my family as well.” placing his arm around his father in laws, letting him rest his weight on his side.

“If only we could’ve gotten Zayn married before this disaster fell upon us.”

“I’m glad that we didn’t. Perrie wasn’t good for him. It was a sign. If she couldn’t stay with him when he was at his worse then why should she get him when he’s at his best?” remembering the look on Zayn’s face when Perrie had left, the ring laying in the palm of his hand and the shell shocked stunned face that quickly morphed into pain that he covered with ease, the ring stuffed into his pocket and a simple shrug of his shoulders to play it off.

“She seemed to be so madly in love with him.” the father sighed, shaking his head sullenly.

“I know. I guess everything is not always as it appears.” nudging him along to start walking again, until they were with the girls once again, their  conversation tucked away in the crevices as the winds carried it away, forgotten from their mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A curse that bound him to a time and place unknown, forced a fate as he had once ridiculed and shunned, he was a beast, both inside and out, fighting against the fates design and luring innocent girls to his castle, only to shun them away with broken hearts, even as his time ran close sealing his doomed fate.
> 
> A boy who fought for his loved ones through the shame of society and depression that plagued the grieving family, even as the breath was halting in his chest and he knew that his time was limited, making the ultimate sacrifice to save the sister who met death and came back to tell the tale.
> 
> aka my poor attempts at a Beauty and the Beast A.U with a few twists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this may seem dull but it's just the like background and fillers, building up to the good stuff. And the Zarry will come by the fourth or fifth chapter, i promise. Stick with me, because I have a lot planned for this story :)

The next day was the first of the rest of their lives, and it seemed like such a torturous start when Zayn was forcing them to rise at the crack of dawn, although he declared that it was well nearing noon. He had breakfast set out on the blanket and was already washed up, apparently finding time to do their laundry in a nearby brook and take care of the animals.  
It seemed like doomsday because when did Zayn start waking up before them and being productive? Normally he would be laid out out for atleast an hour, thumbing through his worn dog eared books, reading words that he could recite in his worst nightmare.

Once everyone was fed and ready for the day he divvied up the tasks, sending Danny and his father to the town to pick up the things he had listed, and set Doniya on the task of cleaning the bare downrun home once he had made sure that it was safe enough inside, Safaa tagging along on her heels and Waliyha going to lie on a blanket with a headache that was plaguing her.

“Zayn! Oi, what the hell are you doing up there?” Doniya’s voice screeched from the front yard, shielding her eyes as she attempted to glare at him.

“Trying to strip the roof. I’m certainly not can-can dancing up here.” murmuring the last part to himself as he straddled the pointed surface, using a crowbar to get rid of the shingles that had rotted away, hands red and aching, fingers fumbling for a tight grip.

“Get down from there you stupid twat. You don’t have any idea what you’re doing!” she hissed while Safaa just laughed, skipping through the tall weeds to where Waliyha had her face pressed into a book.

“Pipe down already! I learned. I’m not completely incompetent.” he grunted, getting steadily onto his feet so that he could fix her with a raised eyebrow.

“When could you have possibly learned that?” surprise and disbelief coloring her features.

“Does it matter? I learned it because it was necessary and it’s a good thing that I did.” tossing away the trash pile that had accumulated by his knee, brushing his hands across his thighs as the wagon came back up the drive.

“Zayn, what the hell are you doing up there?” his father yelled, practically running up toward the porch, anxiety clearly written on his expression.

“For god’s sake. I am trying to unshingle the roof. Why is everyone so worried about it? Leave me to my work.” he shouted, standing with his hands on his hips.

“Because you don’t even know what you’re doing.”

“Apparently he does.” Doniya chimed in, putting her hand on her dad’s arm as warning to calm down.

“What? When did he learn to do that?” surprised as well. Zayn was known throughout society for his love of books and music, never one to take any actual initiative and do any manual labor.

“ A few months ago. He took off from school, pocketed the money, and apprenticed for Mr. Higgins, remember the designer that you commissioned for the design of one of your old ships? When he went to Mr. Edwards to ask for Perrie’s hand in marriage they just laughed at him, told him he wasn’t a real man until he could make something from his own two hands so he didn’t have the right to marry their precious daughter. He took it literally and learned everything Mr. Higgins had to offer, then went and made Perrie a gazebo in her yard, asked her to marry him there without even asking her family again.” Danny supplied quietly as Zayn ignored them all, too immersed in his own work. A steady mantra of work,  _get it done, so much to do, work, work work_  on loop in his head.

“I never knew that.” Doniya said, glancing up at her baby brother on the roof, as if seeing him in an all new light.

“No one knew. Just me and Ant.” referring to his younger brother and their third friend with a solemn expression, missing him dearly.

“It’s a good thing. Because I don’t think I would be able to do all of this work on my own. Doniya, there are groceries in the back. Why don’t you get started on lunch. How’s Waliyha?” glancing over her shoulders at the two girls tumbling in the grass.

“Better. She had a headache earlier but Zayn gave her some of the powders and she’s much better now.” wiping her hands on her skirts as she ordered her husband to get the groceries, laughing as he shot her a wounded glare, muttering on about a donkey.

“Did you get the supplies?” Zayn called down to his father, wiping away the sweat beading on his forehead. He wouldn’t admit it but the height was making his hands tremble and his balance kilter but he held tight.

“Everything that we could afford. We found a farmer selling some chickens, but we already blew through most of the gold.” his father explained, gesturing to the strips of wood that was piled in the back of the wagon, along with nails and some told, groceries added to the mix and mortar to patch the cracks and line the inner walls.

“I can take care of the rest tomorrow. Let me atleast get started on the roof.”

“I’ll help. The townfolks said there may be a chance of a storm next week, wicked nor’easter. Need to get the girls settled long before then.”

“Yeah I know. But I got it. I need you to start the stable. We can’t bring the horses in with us. And maybe work on that fence. There’s a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it. Danny can get a head start on the porch.” reaching for a hammer, testing the weight in his palm like Paul taught him. Even thinking about the kind old man had his insides churning, wishing that he had time to give him a proper goodbye. He deserved that much for all that he’s done for Zayn.

“I’m not a child Zayn. I can handle a bit of roof tiling. I don’t need my son to dictate to me how to shelter my family.” his father hissed, refusing to let his son make him feel incompetent.

“This is no time for your silly pride. I know you want to prove that you’re still capable of taking care of us and I get that. But do you know how to even wield a hammer? Let alone use it to tack these shingles to the roof properly? You’re still in charge, but I’m going to do this, as fast and as proper as I can. Because I know how, please, let’s just not fight right now. The girls are watching.” he said sternly, picking the crowbar back up and attacking the rooftop with more fervor, as if to prove to his father that he could do this, that he wasn’t a child who could be ordered around as easily.

This family was as much his responsibility as it was his fathers, if not more. He had promised his mother, sworn on her deathbed that when she passed he would keep his family together and safe and happy, and he would be damned if he ever broke that promise to her. He hadn’t been the most outstanding son, nothing that she could ever be proud of and really brag to her friends that yes, that is my son. And it was something that had been plaguing his every waking moment, that insignificant thought kept him up at night, trying to make up for it and making himself a brother and son that his sisters and father could look at with pride and know that they would be alright with him around.

They all worked diligently through the day, hauling away rotting wood and replacing it with the freshly purchased slabs, his father and Danny going off a few feet away to start planning out the stable while Zayn finished securing the tiles on the roof, not even giving it an admiring glance before jumping down and getting started on the next task, which was the crumbling porch. By nightfall they were all weary and sore, none of them used to the amount of manual labor, pampered hands blistering painfully and feet sore in soft shoes that did nothing for support but they soldiered through, laying out blankets and trying to catch sleep out in the open, so far from what they once were.

* * *

  
His promise to his mother was the only thing that seemed to motivate Zayn to keep going in those upcoming months as he worked diligently throughout the days, lugging water for baths, tending to the animals at the crack of dawn before setting to work on the barn once the house was fixed, finally able to afford the wood after having Danny go to town with the girls, to let them have a day of fun and to pawn off the engagement ring he had spent weeks saving up for, not even looking back as Danny drove off with it. He couldn’t afford to be nostalgic, to indulge in memories that seemed like lifetimes long gone and dead.  
In the month that they had lived in their quiet neck of forestry it had let them all slowly brighten up to their surroundings, in turn becoming more relaxed and comfortable with their lives. They had the renovations to the roof and inside bedrooms down quickly, shifting their belongings in an attempt to make it feel more homely, with the summer months passing behind them and bleeding through to the fall.

“Zayn! Come inside! Breakfast is ready!” Doniya’s voice echoed in the early morning still that befell the acres, making Zayn stand, hands pushing down on his lower back, sighing in relief as the bones popped back into place, a lazy ache that radiated off of him constantly.

“Coming soon.” he shouted back, tossing the horse brush with a final pat of Amina’s side, letting her graze in the fenced in pasture. He didn’t actually have any plans to go inside, rattling off a list of things that needed to be done, the first and foremost was a shower. He walked down to the waterpump, taking his time to lug the bucket fulls of water to the back of the house and filling the basin, closing the door to the bath house he had built, shedding his ill fitting clothes in exchange for water, shivers making his body convulse violently at the frigid water, he saved the warm water for the girls and his father.

“You idiot. Did you take a shower? How many times have I told you to at least let me heat the water before you bathe? You’re going to catch pneumonia if you keep that up.” Danny growled, snatching his cloak from over the chair and clasping it under Zayn’s chin, frowning at the blue tinge in his friend’s lips. It wasn’t extremely cold outside, but it wasn’t exactly a heated summer day anymore.

“I’m not a goddamn porcelain doll. It’s just a little cold.” Zayn mumbled, roughly rubbing the towel through his hair, tossing it onto the table only to have Doniya box his ears with a glare.

“You twat. You missed breakfast. How many times do we have to tell you to come and get food while it’s still warm.” feigning the annoyance to disguise the genuine worry that ripped at her heart when he turned his gaunt face in her direction, the deep tan of his skin gone to a pale sickly pallor, no matter how much time he spent out in the sun.

“Doniya, I am a grown man. I don’t need you molly coddling me, neither of you.You two are too alike for my liking.” snatching away from her grip on his wrist, feeling her fingers digging into his veins.

“I am allowed to worry Zayn.” he shook his head as a warning when she tried to continue, turning to Waliyha as she skipped into the room, rosy cheeks and eyes glimmering radiance. The move out to the country and done them all good, freedom from rules of society. His father posture straightened, the shame of his downfall receding as he seemed to grow tall and rugged, scruff growing, his muscles developing as he did more work around the house, learning from Zayn as he relaxed and the tension that surrounded his eyes faded away. Saffa wasn’t as reserved as she had been made to be at their old home, but the biggest change came from Waliyha. She positively flourished, the paleness giving way to a healthy tan sheen, her cheeks filling out and a thick layer added to her bones. Her smile was what got him through his days, enthralling and utterly enchanting. And worth all the long days he subjected himself to.

“Hello darling. How was your morning?” he asked, holding out an arm so that she could slot herself in his grip.

“Normal. Me and Saf tended to the gardens with Danny while Doni was cooking and Abba went to town for some more supplies. Although I think he just wants to see some of his friends. I asked him to look for some flowers for me as well. The gardens are looking particularly drab and color.” reaching up to adjust his shirt so the buttons were slotted in the right holes.

“Where is that little demon anyway?” he asked, peering behind her just as Safaa came barreling, a fine layer of dirt coating every possible surface on her.

“Whoa whoa there. Nope, I just washed. No hugs for the monster until she does the same.” grinning as she pouted and attempted to wrap her small arms around his waist but he was elusive, dodging out of her grip as she laughed and pursued him, weaving in and out of Danny and Doni, playfully shoving Waliyha in her way.

“Sorry you had to be my sacrifice Wali.” he hollered, fleeing upstairs, letting his smile drop once he was on the second floor, letting his hands grip his shaking knees as his torso practically throbbed in agony as his heart beat too hard and too loud in his ears. It took a few minutes before he could find the energy to keep going up the stairs, once the piercing pain in his head subsided enough.

 

He could feel it, feel the actual life draining from his limbs, starting from his fingers and traveling through his muscles until he had trouble doing the littlest thing. It started with his fingers becoming too unsteady to hold a pencil, forcing him to abandon his drawing pads, not that he even had the time to indulge in his former favorite frivolous pastime, in that past. Now all his time was devoted to working, fixing things or making them better. With the stables finished, along with a backyard shower for when they made a mess Doniya would scold them for tracking the mud indoors, replacing or fixing every broken part of their house until it stood proud and brilliant on top of the well cut grass that they tended to.

The piercing headache had become an almost soothing comfort, telling him that he was alive and able to work through another day, make things better for his family. Chills constantly clung to his limbs, and his resolute determination to keep using cold water rather than wait for the others to heat water was one of pride. He didn’t need hot water, he was a man, he didn’t need to be coddled.

There’s was still a list of things he wanted to do, but his job at the general store took up a majority of his time, working for their nearest neighbors, the Atkins, Tom giving him a job, as well as helping Danny getting one at the mill and his father one with the bank, which he was thankful for, because it gave his father a reason to be up, wear his dress clothes and hold his shoulders high. They alternated days so that there was a man at home with the girls, but they made it work, and work well. He wasn’t sure how long it could last, but he was determined to make sure it was still like that, if anything should happen to them, hoping for the best, but always expecting the worst. If only he knew that the worse was approaching, and going to hit worse than an avalanche. “Oi, I’m off to town. What do you need from the market, Doniya?” Zayn called, pulling his cloak over his shoulders. The weather was turning a bitter cold as the fall weather faded and gave way to the fierce winds of winter that approached.

“I made a list, we’re out of rice and Abba wants tobacco. Danny was asking for a fresh shaving kit, and I asked Lena at the fabrics store to set aside some bolts of fabric for me, pick that up as well?” she called out as he slid down the ladder, wincing as his feet slammed jarringly against the floor on landing.

“Alright. I’m probably not going to be back for a while. Tom said something about coming over to pick up some supplies. And I might pick up Abba if he’s done” he mumbled, running a hand through the hair that was spilling out of the tie that kept the hair tied at the nape of his neck, as was the style in the city. Now he was just too lazy to keep up appearances.

“Be back in time for lunch.” she called as he headed out, waving his hand. She knew that she wasn’t going to see him for lunch, or even dinner. She knew her brother was attempting some sort of big headed form of chivalry, sacrificing everything for them, including food even though they had more than enough. She simply shook her head, waving from the door as he took the reigns of the wagon and took off, down the expansive dirt road.

He had been to town enough times to dread the figures lurking in front of the General Store, knowing that one particular person in that crowd was waiting, their eyes glaring into his back in an attempt at seduction, chills creeping up his spine. Chester had approached him on his first trip into town, reaching out to caress his face, almost leering as he stalked closer, until Zayn put to use three years of Danny’s boxing lessons, leaving him reeling in pain radiating from his groin and bloody nose, and surprisingly even more enamored with the slight dark haired boy.

 

_ “Well well well, hello there.” A voice so deep and resonating called from behind Zayn that made the hairs resting against his sweaty neck rise in alarm. But he continued loading his supplies onto the back of the cart, struggling with the planks of wood that he had bought in the hopes of building a chicken coop sometime soon, and then eventually purchasing chickens. _

_ “Oi, I’m talking to you sweetcheeks.” A hand rested the small of his back, fingers stroking lightly over the damp fabric. Instinctively he reached behind him, grabbing the thick wrist and twisting it as he whirled around, thrown off guard at the playful smirk that met him, as if the hand he had twisted nearly in half wasn't feeling the slightest twinge of pain. _

_ “My name isn’t sweetcheeks, twat.” He spat, tossing the hand back at it’s owner as the twinkle in the overbuilt bustling man was disgusting to his touch. He was tall, nearly Zayn’s height even from his bent perch on the cart, brown locks shining from where they had been tied at the nape of his neck, the quality impeccable even from the sight of it, clean pressed shirt tucked into tight pants and ending in perfect quality boots, the sight of a man not having worked a day in his life, entitled. Something he had seen in the mirror everyday in London and the thought set his stomach churning. _

_ “I know that, I just wanted to get your attention. The name is Dougal. Dougal Chester Houligan. But you can call me Ches, it’s so much easier to scream in the throes of the pleasure that I’ll be giving you.” Leaning a thick arm on the cart as his friends hooted and hollered, especially in the face of Zayn’s droll expression. _

_ “Was that supposed to impress me or warn me away, because in all honesty it is leaning more toward the latter. If you would excuse me Mr. Houligan.” Leaning down over the edge of the cart to land more gracefully on his weakening limbs but the hands that gripped him around his waist hefted him to the ground, lingering on his hipbones, and it seared through the thin fabric of his worn shirt. _

_ “I do not require your assistance Mr. Houligan. Now if you would kindly get your hands off my person I will be going.” He hissed,stepping away till the grip loosened and fell to its rightful owners side. _

_ “Aw, don’t be so harsh darling, how about you stay for a little while and then we can go back to my home, probably more warm and inviting then that cabin that you’re trying to put back together. If you want, I can hire some men to help fix that right up. I wouldn’t want you to damage your pretty delicate hands. Then they wouldn’t feel as nice wrapped around my cock.” His last words murmured into the shell of Zayn’s red blushing ear before he could jerk away, surprise written all over his features. _

_ “Come on beautiful, a little romp. I promise I wont hurt you, I’ll treat you like the most delicate and exotic of flowers.” Chester becoming more and more soft in tone as he crept closer, hand reaching out in an attempt to caress the smooth stretch of skin that was his cheek. But Zayn moved on instinct, arm lashing out to land a punch to the shapely gut, waiting till he was bending over with an overexaggerated groan before driving his knee into that smug nose until he heart a satisfying crack, and one final kick into his nether regions until he was falling over, curled up tighter that Zayn’s fist. Zayn simply glanced at him before stomping upto his seat and taking the horses reins, setting off back home to the sound of laughter and catcalls trailing behind him, one set of eyes burning into his back far harsher than the others.  _

  
  


“Good Morning, Zayn. How are you, gorgeous?” he called as Zayn hopped down from the wagon, pulling his hood over his head as he nodded, dodging away from his outstretched arm and ignoring the catcalls that followed him into the store.  It wasn’t a new thing, the attention that he received, from both males and females. He had his father’s exotic skin and tinted eyes, and his mother's delicate features that meshed into a result that had folks doing doubletakes at the eyes that were fanned by thick fans of eyelashes and a jaw that cut through their hearts in a way that took breath away. But he was used to compliments in a more mannered way, and when he looked healthy with pink tinged skin and a layer of fat that shielded his bones from contact with skin. It was odd that someone could find him attractive, now if anything.  This was one aspect to this life he didn’t like, at least the people who were interested in him were civil in city life.

“Can’t seem to get rid of you, now can we? Come in on your days off as well now. You’re like a begging cat that got a taste of cat nip.” Tom peered over from where he was working at the counter, tallying in his ledger. He grinned sluggishly, waving the list that he held.

“Got errands to run Atkins, don’t you dare think it’s because I like seeing your ugly mug.” he grumbled playfully, slapping the piece of paper in front of his friend who snatched it up just as playfully aggressive, chuckling to himself as he started taking down things that were on the list while Zayn went towards the back for a bag of feed for the chickens they acquired, and oats for the horses.

“Mind if I load the wagon in the back?” Zayn asked, brushing his hands on the seat of the pants so he wouldn’t have to look at Tom who raised an eyebrow.

“Are those idiots outside giving you a hard time? Cause I’ll go box their ears if I have to.” Tom said sternly, glancing at the young lad in front of him who just shrugged and attempted to play it off by adjusting the shoulders of the cloak that seemed to big when once they fit snug around him. He sighed and nodded.

“I’ll bring the horses around, you start taking this stuff toward the back, alright?” Tom didn’t even spare him a glance as he opened his mouth to argue, darting out the door. He didn’t like charity, someone attempting to take care of him when he was more than capable of doing it himself. He didn’t need someone coddling him, he wasn’t a toddler. So what if a few thugs felt like he was hot meat, he wasn’t going to cower before them. He has faced worse. But he swallowed his pride, loading the stuff into the back of the wagon, keeping his head bowed as the group of neanderthals threw comments that grew more vile and derogatory with each one, stirring the contents of his stomach.

“Where ya going darling? Come and get a little.” Chester approached him as he clambered into the drivers seat, obscenely grabbing his crotch.

“A little what? There’s nothing there,” waving at Tom as he flicked his wrists to urge the horses on as Chester’s friends all laughed raucously at Zayn’s comment. He just shook his head, heading toward the fabrics shop that was conveniently right next to the book shop, a planned diversion by Doniya or a chance of luck he didn’t know but it was well worth a trip, just like it was every day he visited. A piece of familiarity when everything else seemed uncertain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated: Changed the ending of the chapter :) 3/23/2015


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been off ao3 for a long time but I'm back just in time for Zayn's new solo album!

“Waliyha, come on.” Safaa cajoled her older sister, skipping out of the house a few weeks later, as Doniya lay down for a rest, claiming sickness, and Danny went to make sure she was alright, encouraging the girls to go out for some fresh air, and some peace for their sister, as Zayn had gone to town and their father worked.

“I’m coming I’m coming.” she huffed, hefting up her skirts to catch up to her younger sister, thick clothe shoes padding against the soft recently cultivated ground, Zayn spending two days on it, planting some of seeds that he bought from Tom.

“I want to go and look at that little house on the hill.” Safaa giggled in excitement but Waliyha stopped short, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Abba and Zayn said not to go in there.” she said simply, making Safaa frown and stomp her foot.

“Come on Wali, we’re not allowed in the woods, Danny said there were dangerous evil things in there and we went in there and nothing happened. We went all the way to the creek and came back alright. And aren’t you even the least bit curious?” a silent jab at a chink in her sisters armor, because everyone knew that Waliyha’s curiosity was her achilles heel.

“Fine, but really really fast..” biting on her bottom lip as she reached out for Safaa’s hand, both of them suppressing mischievous giggles as they scurried up the hill, a sense of exhilarating foreboding at doing something naughty and expressly forbidden to them. The rundown cottage was actually big, or it once had been, except now it was decayed, rotting wood splintering unattractively, darkened with age and the elements, and festering with the smell of feces, some animal most likely making it it’s home in the abandoned home.

“Smells like Zayn when he hasn’t bathed after working.” Safaa mumbled, making her older sister giggle, the slightest twinge of guilt rising in the back of her mind but shaken off immediately when she reached up to push the front door,delighted shivers traveling up her spine as it creaked and moaned, but easily gave in.

“Whoa.” came out of both their lips as their unaccustomed eyes peered through the dust and grime, but the room seemed in pristine shape, the furniture intact, couches and delicate lamps, everything simple. They wandered toward the kitchen and it was the same, a small table against the window, a lace setting for one, the table already set as if it’s owner was due back any moment but in the six or so months they had been living there, there hadn’t been a sign of human life near this home.

“Wow, Waliyha come here.” said girl’s head whipping around, only now realizing that her younger had wandered off.

“Safaa, don’t just wander off. I’m in charge of you for now.” following the sound of Safaa’s indignant snort, finding her in a strange room, random knickknacks littering the room, odd baubles, ranging from broken necklaces to rows upon rows of vials in all shapes and sizes with various shades of liquids, nearly everyone imaginable, bookshelves stuffed with books and loose papers littering every available surface of the table, with one book propped up, enticing her closer. The words Once Upon a Time making her grin, she had always had a soft side for fairytales, her fingers skimming along the spine of the hardcover leather bound text when Safaa gasped, followed by a soft swish that caught her attention, whirling around and ready to scold but a shimmering glint caught her attention, a propped mirror reflecting her own reflection back at her, although it was hard to make out through the dust.

“It’s beautiful.” walking over to reach out and let her fingers skin over the gilded hand crafted gold frame, pulling down her sleeves to wipe away the grime, grinning at her and Safaa’s reflections, only to fall back on her bottom, their faces distorting to morph that of a hideous creature, fur and scars matted and filthy, where a normal face was, seeming every bit some sort of frightening animal, fangs protruding, except for the green eyes that were so freakishly human, cold and peering, locked on Waliyha’s frightened ones. She was stuck there, against her will, so unaware of Safaa’s screams and tugging on her hand, screaming for Danny or Zayn, yanking on her sister’s arm desperately. The creature opened it’s vast jaw, showing rows of sharp jagged teeth, and bellowing the most terrifying roar that pierced right through her soul, forcing breath back into her lungs, only enough to let out a high pitched shriek, one that had Danny and Doniya’s heads snapping up and scrambling out the door, catching both girls as they came flying through the fields pale and shaking, as if the devil himself was after them.

  


“Zayn, Zayn wait. Don’t do anything rash!” Doniya called, lifting her skirts in attempt to wade through the fields and close the distance between her and her irate brother who was stalking toward the ramshackle cottage, hammer in hand.

“Doniya go back and take care of the girls,” he snapped, barely sparing her a glance as he stalked on with a fury in his step. He had come home from what felt like an endless day of taking care of groceries and trying to deal with an irritating Chester who kept badgering him for inappropriate things that made him want to knock his teeth out, only to have the contained anger come rushing out as soon as he stepped through the house to see Safaa clinging to Danny sobbing her eyes out and Waliyha pale but fast asleep, or so he had thought until he noticed Doniya fanning her.

“Zayn just calm down!” She called, in vain as he kept stomping forward, ready to take his anger out on the first thing he saw, hoping it was something that would appease his raging monsters. But he was on a rampage, trying to quash the terror that had threatened his family, threatened the peace and serenity that he had finally managed to achieve, the sense of security that was ripped from them.

It was the first time that he stepped foot into the squatter’s hut, holding back a grimace as he ducked to get through the low doorway, eyes sweeping over the dusted decaying outlay of the living space, sparse and bare in decorations save for a few paltry pieces of furniture, nothing intimidating except for the dust. He shook his head, walking down the path that Safaa had described to him, through the narrow hall to the back room, seeing the bottles lining the back wall, shades and swirls of bright and dark colors, evil thick looking substances and then some that looked like glitter, next to weeds floating in water. He glanced among them for a second, before letting his attention fall the the thing he had come here for. The mirror.

It stood beside the window, the light filtering through the grime and reflecting a distorted version of himself that he cringed at. He wasn’t the same as he was months ago, gaunt and near frail with sunken cheeks and eyes, hair too long and greasy, looking like death was creeping over his shoulder, waiting for him to come forward.

“Well, Beast, are you not going to come out? Or do you simply enjoy frightening helpless little girls?” He hissed, glaring into the mirror but all he saw was his own reflection glaring back at him, a fury that he hadn’t ever seen.

“Yeah, I thought so. Simply a crazy witch’s form of entertainment,” he grunted, lifting the hammer and bringing it down right in the middle of the mirror, watching it splinter and crack, a spiderweb of delicate broken spaces. It was a satisfying feeling so he did it again, and again and again until the pieces had fallen to the floor, leaving behind only the back of the gilded stand and glass around his boots, until he stomped down on them, grinding the silvery pieces to dust, sparking amongst the inches of dirt. It was satisfying, but left him craving so much more. Clenching his fists he took deep breaths, pacing the length of the room, wanting to throw the delicate the bottles until they fell to pieces beneath his boots but he knew not to mess with elixers and its effects, the negative ones at least.

It would’ve been the table that caught the brunt of his anger if he didn’t catch sight of the book, the words blazoned across the top, _Once Upon A Time_ , words he used to look forward to. Especially when they fell from his mother's lips in her familiar lulling accent. It was instinct that had him striding forward, grasping the thick bound book, reveling in the familiarity of leather and parchment. Something that never changed, no matter how much times passes or how much they lost.

The cover was thick, heavy as he flipped it open slowly, almost reverently, going through the first few blanks pages until he came across the words, _Once Upon a Time_ and delved into the story eagerly, forgetting about why he was there in the first place.

_Once Upon a Time, in a land far in space and time lived a young boy, or man, as he was a man of twenty and four, thriving in the world that had once threw him fates that toyed with his resolve to live._

It was a fairy tale. An odd one that took place in the future, a strange time with wagons without horses, and odd devices that people held in their hands, women dressed near bare for all to see. Zayn skimmed through it, reading the strife of a happy lad who had lost his sister, the one closest to him, feeling like he was intruding on his grief as he could practically feel the pain as the young boy clutched his chest and cried in the pictures. It was just too reminescent that that could have been him just a few months ago. His feeling of anger raising of his sister's death too strong and letting it consume his soul and every chance of happiness he might have had. It felt too real but he needed to know what happened.

On the story went, that carefree happy lad falling into the pits of a dark future, anger and bitterness reigning over his heart as estranged himself from his only remaining family, living in a world of isolation and bitter frustrations, turning into a lothario as he bedded one girl after another, discarding of them the very next day, the way he worked himself day and night in an attempt to hide the pain that encompassed him so furiously. And then a fruitless search for love, and finally finding a boy, small and brightly full of sunshine and sarcasm that it seemed to seep into his own heart. It seemed like such a happy ending that Zayn wanted to smile, but it soon fell into another pit of darkness as he was left behind once again and angrily went back to his old ways, leaving behind a trail of broken hearts that did nothing to soothe his own. It all ended though when he roughly bedded a woman disguised as a witch and simply brushed her off.

She cast a curse over him, sending him back in time, and marring his good looks as well.

“ _You are cursed, to live a life wandering in an unfamiliar time and place, until you can find someone who can love you, despite your prickly personality and disfigured features,” she said as she waved a hand and sent the scared man away, ending up in a big empty castle that practically pulsed with magic. And it was in the castle that the man spent his days, weeks, months, and eventually years, luring young girls._

Zayn nearly dropped the book when he saw his cottage on the next page, and Waliyha skipping through the grass.

_“The deadline to the curse was drawing closer, and if the beast did not find someone who could fall in love with him despite his scarred features then he was doomed to stay in this fate forever. And upon seeing the beautiful woman the beast decided that he would lure her to his castle, deep in the woods in the hopes that spending enough time with him would be enough to fall in love, or the both of them would face the consequences. The beast hatched a plan, would that he would enact that very night he appeared in the mirror...starting with her father. A deviously wretched plot he hatched, bringing forth the very people who had wrecked the life her father had made and ploying him with a chance of getting back all he had once had, including his bruised and tarnished dignity. He sent a letter that would send the father rushing back to his place of birth, but twisting the very ground his horse galloped on to lead to his castles gate, to trap him and in turn, his beautiful daughter._

The book slipped from his fingers, falling open to the page with the beast glaring at him, fiery harsh eyes seeping through his insides as he thought about his sister seeing those same eyes as he stalked toward her, tall, menacing, threatening and looming over her thin frail frame, cowering in fear as she called out his name, tears on her pale face.

“No!” He screamed, tearing out of the dilapidated building, practically flying through the acres of land, heart racing at the thought of Waliyha gone, in danger of that vile creature. He barged through the front doors of their home, heaving for breath, hand pressed to his chest as his eyes peered frantically through the room, skimming over Doniya’s questions and Danny’s stare, darting through the kitchen toward the stairs that he took two at a time, wrenching open the door immediately on the right to the girls bedrooms. His clamoring heart took a minute to register that she was safe, both of them were, curled up together in the bed barely big enough to house them both, still here, still safe.

“Zayn? What the hell!” Doniya hissed, grabbing onto his upper arm and physically dragging him out of the room and toward the stairs. He couldn’t answer her, or the furrowed brows that pressed her eyes into slits as he clutched at his chest to east his panicking heart. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real. Just an old curse left by a bitter spinster witch in the hopes of scaring and showing a person their deepest fears. That had to be it.

“Where’s Abba? Doniya, where’s Abba? This is an emergency please.” he leaded, glancing around frantically only to realize that his father’s boots and cloak were missing.

“He went into town this morning and saw a letter from one of his old partners, not the bastard that stole from him. He said that he had recovered something that abba may want to come and check. Zayn, why are you running in like the devil himself is on your tail?” Danny questioned, coming up behind his wife, laying his arm over her shoulders in a bid to stop her from shaking, or so it seemed to Zayn, or maybe it was just the fact that he couldn’t seem to get a hold of his body.

 

“I need to stop him, I need to stop him, he’s making a mistake, he’s falling right into the trap!” Hands shaking as he tore right past his sister and best friend, snatching up his cloak before dashing towards the barn and Amina who looked happy to see her master.

“Come on girl, we have to go. They’re not getting Waliyha. Not from me.” Foregoing the saddle, he straddled her back and took off, holding onto her mane as she galloped down the trail, following it as he had everyday, heart pounding and mind racing faster than he could actually process, dodging branches and averting holes in the path as he raced into town, heading straight to Atkins General Store, hoping off Amina before she even stopped and stomping up the steps.

“Tom? Tom, has my father been through here today?” Leaning against the counter, heaving for breath as he eyes darted around wildly, searching for any sign of the family mop of greying hair and a wrinkled brow that he used to associate with home and safety.

“Yes, he came in for some provisions and a bedding set. Zayn, are you alright? Were those boys giving you a hard time again?” Tom came from around the counter, his brow furrows and hands reaching out to comfort his friend, watching the young man who was glancing around frantically, sweat beading along his face and fear the most prominent thing in his eyes, looking more like a lost child fearing abandonment.

“When? How long ago Tom?” Surging forward to fist his hands in the older man's shirt, bringing him till they were nose to nose, strength coming from adrenaline pumping furiously in his veins.

“Ten, maybe fifteen, minutes ago! Said he was trying to head out before it got too dark. Zayn what the heck is the matter with you?” Tom exclaimed, trying to pray clenched fists of his shirt but he needn't because Zayn was already letting go and hurtling back out the door and toward Amina who hadn’t moved at all.

“Back already? Don’t leave so fast then darlin’. Come and play with the big boys for a while? I'll show you a good time,” Chester sauntered over, grabbing a hold of Zayn’s ankle, effectively stopping him from escaping.

“Get off, Chester, I have to go,” he grunted, not even glancing back as he attempted to kick off the grip that ensnared his loose boot.

“Not until you give me a kiss, right on the pecker.” Grinning impishly as he used his free hand to grab his covered loins, gathering laughter from his friends.

“Piss of Chester, I don’t have time for your bleeding lechery. I have to go.” Reaching to yank off his shoe and galloping off with it still clutched in the leeches hand.

“I’ll come visiting with the glass slipper, Cinderella. Have my thanks ready,” Chester called afterwards but the laughter fell on deaf ears as Zayn pushed Amina to run, to gallop down the path, it couldn’t be too late, he had worked too damn heart to let some Beast rip apart everything that he had left.

 

He rode and rode on, twisting and turning on the path, mind laser focused on finding his father. Twenty minutes along the path and he found a familiar gray horse lingering by the trees, reins tied around the trunk of a tree.

“Thank god. Abba. ABBA!” stumbling off of Amina with hasty jerking movements, hands immediately trailing to the knife strapped to the holster at his waist.

“Abba where are you?” his voice echoing in the towering trees that swallowed them before the echoes to resonate.

“Zayn? What are you doing out here?” The feeling of relief swamped zayn until he felt his knees threatening to give out on him, adreanline draining from his body just as fast as it had come.

“Abba, Abba you can’t go. Abba you can’t go back toward the city. Please.” Striding forward until he could grab onto the lapels of his father's jackets, clinging to just like he had as a small boy, looking for strength and reassurance.

“Zayn? Zayn what’s going on? Are you feeling alright?” Giant hands wrapped around his elbow one creeping to press against the throbbing expanse of his forehead, then to lay against his neck.

“Zayn you need to go back home, you’re burning up with fever. Get back on Amina and go straight to bed. There’s talk of rain tonight as well.” Looking into his sons eyes, not even seeing the wild panic that was blatantly staring right back at him.

“No, Abba please you have to listen to me. Bad things are going to happen if you go. There’s a beast and he’s going to lead you on a path that will lead to him taking Wali. Please Abba listen to me.” He pleaded,reaching to grab onto his fathers wrist, holding on as tight as his grip would allow, praying that for once his hard headed father would listen, not question him and scuff at his lunacy.

“Zayn, that’s the fever talking. There’s no such thing as Beasts. Now please go back to the house and go get some rest. If everything goes according to plan I will have secured back our dignity and our family name.” His voice fading into a soft murmur, as if anticipating a great victory and not wanting anyone to ruin the outcome.

“But if you go, you will have ruined everything that we have built here! Listen to me! Stop chasing dreams that are gone and the respect of people who were the first to turn away at your downfall! He’s going to lure you in and then he’s going to steal her away! You have to believe me. I wont let you be the reason that we lose Waliyha!” His voice rising above the treetops, way over their heads and for miles at least. But not through his fathers head.

“Zayn, there’s no such things as monsters or beasts. It’s all in your head and those damn books you read. Now go home. You are not the only one capable of taking care of this family. I’m the father, Im the breadwinner, you’re the son. Learn your role and your limits. Now go home and get some rest. I expect there will be many changes when I return.” Looking down at his son with a steely gaze before breaking the weak grip on his wrist and striding back over to his horse.

“No! Abba Please! I’ll go in your place! Don’t do this to us.” Words falling on deaf ears as his father turned and rode away, not even giving a second glance to his son, choosing instead to chase everything that he had lost, risking everything that they had gained.

Knees bucking and hands bracing for the fall Zayn tipped over onto his side, curling up and his head beat too loud in his chest, threatening to burst and leave him motionless on the moss clearing. Too cold and feeble to even think beyond the fact that his father hadn’t listened, and that he might lose Waliyha, the one he had fought so hard to save, one of the people he had fought so hard to save.

It took fat raindrops plopping in increasing amount to force him onto his knees, crawling through the dirt to where Amina kneeled, watching as he inched forward and draped himself over her back, clinging feebly to the reins as she trotted in the direction of home. So out of it that he hadn’t noticed when the rain increased, until it was like a monsoon, pouring in all directions if he had bothered to look, soaking him to his narrow bones as he cloak was lost to the winds. All he noticed was the way his heart was beating too fast, too hard and too confined in the narrow little space of his chest.

He didn’t realize when they had made it back to the house, only that light was flooding his face as Danny came hurtling out of the house, dragging him off Amina and carrying him into the house. Everything gave way to the raging fever as he let his mind go, went completely limp to Doniya’s fussing, being tucked into bed with more blankets and quilts than they could spare but he felt the two little hands in his, clinging onto him like a life support, whether for him or them he didn’t know, maybe both.


End file.
